Man in Warhammer, starting Primarch

After the defeat of Khorne, the human counterattack became extremely smooth.

Until the outer orbital space, the Chaos fleet was beaten to pieces, and the war ushered in the final victory.

On the surface, the Astra Militarum, Battle Sisters, Planetary Defense Force and other soldiers came from all directions excitedly.

The war had already fallen into despair, but with the resurrection of the Primarch, they easily defeated the invading daemons and fallen warriors.

Everyone was chanting Dukel's name sincerely.

After thousands of years of darkness, they urgently need the guidance of a great being at this moment.

At this moment, Duker is undoubtedly this great existence.

Whether it is a high-ranking dignitary in rich clothes or a poor craftsman in ragged clothes.

People from all walks of life came from all over the world.

Even though the Second Holy Land has been left with terrible scars by the war, it still cannot stop these people from making a pilgrimage.

When Dukel, wearing power armor, walked through the ranks of the Star Wars, he was greeted by overwhelming cheers like a mountain roaring and a tsunami.

Everyone looked at Duker with fanatical admiration in their eyes, and some men even raised their children above their heads, hoping that their children could witness the savior of the world with their own eyes.

The battle nuns still had blood stains on their bodies that had not yet dried up. At this moment, these fanatical believers of the state religion spontaneously built a line of isolation for Dukel.

If it weren't for the existence of the isolation line, he would have been surrounded and overwhelmed by the excited people.

"Everyone is cheering for you, hoping that you can save them from eternal darkness."

Sister Efilar stood behind Duker and whispered softly like a prayer.

"Um"

Duker was still not good at dealing with such a scene, so he just nodded coldly.

To be honest, the fanaticism in the Warhammer world really made him feel a little nervous.

In his eyes, these cheering people were, in a sense, more terrifying than the human traitors and the great demon of Khorne.

Those red eyes, filled with trust and admiration.

Neither he nor the former No. 2 Primarch would cater to others.

Facing these expectant looks, he felt even more stressed.

[Absorbing human faith for the host]

Duker stood at the center of everyone's attention, and the system became more active than ever.

Countless devout beliefs were absorbed into the system, and then transformed into materials that made Dukel even more powerful.

In the subspace, the group of subspace projections like wildfire increased at a speed far faster than before.

Dukel's subspace projection was so bright at this moment.

Even the dark lords at the far end can see clearly.

The power of chaos begins to accumulate, waiting for an opportunity to move.

In the two hell worlds infinitely far apart, the traitorous primarchs Magnus and Mortarion also saw the fire clearly.

——Primarch No. 2 recovered from his loss of control and became even more powerful.

The two daemon primarchs received this message almost simultaneously.

Mortalion let out layers of strange laughter and unleashed a poisonous storm. Dozens of unprecedented but terrifying poisons in the real universe descended on the unfortunate Imperial world.

However, Mortalion's current plan has reached a critical juncture that needs to be concluded. At this moment, the Lord of the Death Guard has no time to lead his army into battle.

The evil eyes of the demon primarch are hidden in the thick poisonous mist. In the near future, he will definitely let Duker and the decaying human empire fester together.

But Magnus looked extremely anxious at this moment. He angrily overturned the card table in front of him and tore the tarot cards in front of him to pieces.

The future that was originally clearly visible in his eyes was now blurry. The originally smooth destiny is now chaotically entangled.

An unplanned and unknown mutation disrupted all his plans and drove him crazy.

Just when Dukel was trapped in the cheers of the human populace.

The Thirteenth Primarch, Robert Guilliman, also defeated the Daemon Warriors and Corrupted Warbands that besieged him.

At this moment, he sat on the throne a little tiredly and removed all his attendants and advisors.

Guilliman stared blankly ahead, as if trying to see clearly through the thick wall the future in the darkness.

But after a while, there was only a sigh.

Sitting on a lonely throne in a deserted hall, this rational primarch finally allowed himself to take off his mask of perseverance, revealing a trace of misery and pain.

He didn't know why he was awakened. Although he was still brave enough on the previous battlefield, there were still wounds left thousands of years ago in his great original body.

That long-standing wound lurked deep in his body, gnawing at him all the time. Guilliman suspected that this wound would never heal.

But the eternal pain has become the most insignificant at this moment.

Before this, Guilliman had talked with the Saints, the Ultramarines commanders, and even Evrené of the Death Army.

During this period, he created a friendly and harmonious atmosphere, coaxing the other party to tell more information while laughing, and perfectly concealed his own emotional fluctuations caused by these words.

Guilliman pointedly showed the side of his personality that was most catering to the other party, causing the other party to answer his questions unconsciously.

Hearing the cruel answers one after another, although he seemed calm on the surface, in fact, every answer pierced his heart like a steel knife.

The current tragic situation of the empire frightened him and made him unable to breathe. Grief and pain were constantly biting his heart.

He could even hear every drop of his blood roaring.

The empire of the past was built with countless efforts by the Emperor and the Primarchs.

But now there is no trace of reason or hope. Only fear, hatred and ignorance are keeping this behemoth alive.

The Primarch Guilliman was an out-and-out idealist. Even among his Primarch brothers, there had never been anyone who envisioned a bright future with as much hope as he did.

The tragic situation of mankind for thousands of years seems to be vivid in our eyes. In the vast galaxy, their enemies are almost everywhere.

Traitors and Chaos Daemons are wreaking havoc, and races from beyond the galaxy are harvesting life.

"Thousands of years have passed," Guilliman muttered to himself, not knowing who he should talk to.

If he didn't find something to say, everything he knew now would be enough to drive him crazy.

After recovering from his illness, Guilliman once again wished that he could have a brother by his side so that they could speak freely.

Perhaps only they who are the same original body can understand each other's feelings.

"Thousands of years have passed." Guilliman continued to mutter to himself, "Look what has become of us, and we ourselves are the same: blind faith, ignorance, suffering, decadence. Carrying the name of a god is so popular, irony Unfortunately, this 'god' hates his title."

Suddenly, he seemed to have thought of something, and suddenly raised his head to look at the portrait above his head.

It was a being shrouded in halo and sitting on the throne.

"We failed, we all failed, father, but..." Guilliman murmured to himself, but his expression gradually returned to determination from depression,

"But why did Dukel wake up from losing control? We all know that there is no way he will wake up again."

"You must know what is right, right?"

"There is still hope!"